


Let's Conspire to Ignite

by quixotesque



Category: 13 Reasons Why (TV)
Genre: Barebacking, Future Fic, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanish Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-25
Updated: 2017-04-25
Packaged: 2018-10-23 00:44:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,435
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10708605
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quixotesque/pseuds/quixotesque
Summary: Foggily, Clay considers the possibility that his mind might be steadily spilling out of his skull.





	Let's Conspire to Ignite

**Author's Note:**

> The Clony longfic I'd like to write isn't cooperating with me, so I just yelled I GIVE UP FOR NOW and went straight to writing porn with no plot whatsoever. Title is taken from Muse's "Starlight" and this fic is set in some point in the future, where they're both happily dating. Please hover over the Spanish words to get translations; there's not much tho, because I don't really speak Spanish, welp. (If you do, let me know if I got anything wrong.)
> 
> Hope you like!

Foggily, Clay considers the possibility that his mind might be steadily spilling out of his skull.

They’ve been at this for – he doesn’t know how long, and he’s drowning in the heat of his own body and of a ravaging fire trapped beneath his skin, sparked and fanned stronger by the devious fingers twisting inside him, toying with him.

“Tony,” he says yet again, swallowing. “ _Tony_.”

Tony’s breath is a smudge of hot air over Clay’s bitten lips. His lust-darkened eyes are more black than hazel, his hair a wild mess from the relentless tugs of Clay’s fingers. “You’re gorgeous, you know that? And so tight, baby, no matter how many times we do this.”

“I’m also ready. I’m so fucking ready. Come on, put your dick in me,” Clay half-demands, half-pleads, but it only earns him another deep thrust of Tony’s fingers and a teasing press against his prostate that catches Clay in between a gasp and a moan. They’ve both already come once, their torsos splattered with the sticky evidence, but his cock aches like he’s been left denied all night and he wants to fucking whine in need, wants to writhe obscenely on something bigger and more fulfilling than Tony’s fingers until it throws him over the edge. When Tony’s got him like this, begging and wanton, Clay thinks he’s got volcanic fissures running jagged all over him, each one threatening to crack wide open and leave him in ruined pieces. “Hate you. Really hate you. So much. I mean it.”

Tony’s little laugh is muffled by Clay’s collarbones, where Tony's lowered his head to suck a mark into existence. “Don’t believe you.”

“Hate you,” Clay repeats. He cups the back of Tony’s neck with both hands, coaxes him to look up and says, “Please,” softly, helpless enough to sound like he’s maybe close to crying. Clay’s not ashamed of it; his pride ripped into nothing soon after Tony slid his skillful fingers into his tightness and now Clay's so open and aching and Tony’s stroking fingers are good, so good, but they're not enough to satisfy what he’s really craving. He needs Tony’s cock. He needs _Tony_.

“All right, babe,” Tony soothes, brushing his lips against Clay’s forehead. “All right. _Sé que lo necesistas_.” His fingers slip out of Clay’s hole with a soft, lewd sound that makes Clay bite his lip. The abrupt, terrible emptiness in him, momentary as it's going to be, almost pulls an objection out of him even as he knows it's part of what he's asked for. Tony does this to him all the time, leaves him feeling so complete and whole that it’s shocking to be without him afterwards.

“Kiss me first,” Clay says and readily parts his mouth to accept the invading swipe of Tony’s tongue. It’s as sweet as it is dirty – Tony’s kisses seem to manage that effortlessly and Clay hums contently, his toes curling. Tony smiles, breaking the lock of their lips. Clay nips at him in punishment. With the guidance of Tony’s hands, he brings his legs up to bracket Tony’s hips, little lightning bolts of eagerness jumping in his belly as he waits to feel Tony's thick cock. 

“Ready?” Tony asks needlessly, the wet head of his dick pressing gently to Clay’s slack hole.

Clay’s panting at just that already and then he quickly loses all sense of everything beyond Tony, every perfectly fitting inch of Tony's cock sliding in and turning intense pressure into a blaze of pleasure, full and hot inside Clay.

Clay moans loud enough to be heard out in the street. He arches, throwing his head back onto the pillow; buries one hand back into Tony’s hair, the other scratching into Tony’s shoulder.

Words burn away before they can even reach his throat and then Tony’s words scald him some more, the husky scrape of his voice dragging tantalizingly over Clay's sensitive skin: “I’ll never get used to watching you take my dick, Clay. You know how good you look? How good you feel? You’re fucking perfect.”

Clay gasps out, clamping down tight on the cock inside him. He slides his hands down the sweat slicking Tony’s back, palms skidding over the smooth, soft river of skin and gracefully moving muscles. “You feel even better,” he manages. “Oh, God, oh, God, Tony, that’s so fucking good.”

“ _Quiero follar contigo toda la noche_ ,” Tony says, low and hungry, “that’s what you do to me, I can't get enough of you,” and Clay shudders with exhilaration. He never speaks any of the Spanish he’s picked up from Tony, fearing that his awkward mouth will butcher the language, but the more times Tony slips into it whenever they fuck, the more Clay is able to decipher the beautiful filth flowing honey-sweet from Tony’s mouth and each syllable sends a thrill shocking through him.  

Locking his ankles at Tony’s spine, Clay cants his hips, invites Tony in deep, deeper, right into the most ravenous, needy part of him that no one else can touch. “More,” he pants out. More of Tony’s enthralling words, more of his perfect dick. “Don’t want it slow. Want it hard. I can take it.”

Tony fucking _growls_. “ _Joder, sí, sí, puedes, cariño_ ,” he rumbles out, his hips picking up speed, powerful slams shoving his cock into Clay’s prostate, pushing Clay up the bed and forcing him to hurriedly reach back to brace a hand against the headboard.

The leverage is welcome and Clay uses it to thrust down and swallow Tony’s cock into his greedy, grasping body, packing up all the hollow spaces within him with continuous, stark explosions of bliss. He doesn’t last long—can’t lost long with how much Tony’s teased him already. Breathlessly, he says, “I’m close – I’m gonna – gonna—”

“Do it, beautiful, do it, give it up to me now _._ ”

Clay groans as his dick spurts, groans louder at Tony’s hand curling around him, stroking him through it. The whole world whirls around him, out of control, and Clay holds on tight as he can to the one anchor he’s got, the one constant he’s always had even if he didn’t really know it for a long time.

“ _Te adoro_ ,” Tony whispers, hushed, reverent, heard even above the white noise in Clay’s head and the loud hammering in his chest, because Clay’s body is an instrument tuned to the sound of that voice, his heartbeat beating to its rhythms.

Clay turns his head, urgently catching Tony’s lips with his own. “You, too.” He relaxes the tautness of his strained body, makes himself go limp and turn into the perfect sheath for Tony’s cock to pound into. Tony groans through gritted teeth. He presses frantic kisses from Clay’s mouth up to his temple and then into his sweat-drenched hair.

Clay murmurs, “Come in me, Tony. Make me _full_ of you,” and clamps down hard on Tony, watches the beauty of his overwhelmed face as Tony falls into his own sweeping orgasm. Tony’s hips roll through the last pulses of his release, fucking in as far as he can, his come staining deep until he’s got no more left to spill. He shudders, breathing hard, and allows only his head to drop to Clay’s chest though his arms are shaking a little.

Clay's legs fall down to sit on either side of Tony. He threads his fingers into Tony’s damp hair, gently holding him. “Is that our best one yet or…?”

“Probably,” Tony chuckles and plants a small kiss to Clay’s racing heart before easing himself out, sly self-satisfaction pulling his lips into a tiny smirk as he spares a glance downwards.

Clay knows exactly what he's looking at—he's extremely aware of the sloppiness down there, the vague soreness—and his cheeks burn. “You pervert,” he mutters, laughing.

“Says the one who told me to fill him up with my spunk,” Tony retorts smoothly.

Months ago, Clay would’ve hidden his face with a hand and pulled his legs inwards, but these days, he shamelessly savors the pleased look burning in Tony’s eyes and lets him look all he wants. Lets him rearrange them both into an embrace and burrow his face into Clay’s hair once they’re comfortably settled. They can postpone cleaning up for at least five more minutes. 

“Did I tease you too much?” Tony asks after moments of easy silence, voice slightly muffled.

“Oh, I think you can make it up to me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yep. By doing it all over again tomorrow,” Clay says and buries his little grin in Tony's neck, right where it's reverberating with Tony's laughter. 

**Author's Note:**

> [Come and yell about Clony with me on tumblr if you want.](http://quixotesque.tumblr.com/) Also if you have any prompts, feel free to chuck them at me and I might have a go at writing them, bc I'm generally pretty hopeless at coming up with plot ideas on my own.


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